In this delightful short story by Sayantani Das, Class V, Epic Public School, discover how belief, not magic, helps turn chaos into success. A charming tale of exams, imagination, and inner strength.
“Everything is such a mess!” I shouted, trying to rest my head on my palm. “Exams are knocking at the door, and most of my studies are still pending! What shall I do? I must complete all of it today,” I added.
Well, fellows, this story is entirely about the haphazard condition of my studies before the exams. I’m not going to tell you everything at the beginning. So, be patient—you’ll get to know everything along the way.
Everything was a mess (for me at least). Two notebooks: one lying open on my desk for absolutely no reason, the other face down on the floor. My thirty-centimetre ruler, upside down at the very edge of my desk. My pencil pouch left open beside the book I was reading.
Fifteen minutes to twelve on the clock.
“Come now, it’s past bedtime,” my mum called out.
“No, I can’t. I’m not done yet!” I replied. Due to my sore throat, it sounded almost like a cry.
You know, not very long ago—or should I say, just a few days back—on the bus while returning home, I got a bit tired and fell asleep, completely forgetting to close the window. It was a cold, rainy day, and the wind really hit my neck. The result: a sore throat and a broken voice.
After a long while, I finally fell asleep on my book. I woke up again at 4:30 a.m.
Argh! I can’t stay up any longer… I have school too!
Wait! What the—
I couldn’t finish my sentence. The pen I had been using all along was dancing! I quickly rubbed my eyes, and everything was normal.
“Maybe I imagined that because I’m too sleepy,” I thought.
Then I decided to do a bit more work before sleeping again. I started solving some maths problems, and surprisingly, I knew all the answers before I even calculated properly. When I checked with the calculator, every equation was correct! Anyway, I was quite happy and went back to bed.
Somehow, I managed to wake up on time for school. I barely caught the bus. I slept on the way to school, because otherwise, I knew I’d fall asleep in class. We reached school, and the first few periods went smoothly. Then came a quiz contest. I was able to answer each and every single question.
But then came the game-changer—a surprise Social Studies test. All of us were shocked.
Guess what happened next? When the teacher was checking my answer sheet, I was scared—heart beating like a drum. But when I received my paper, everything was absolutely correct!
It must be the pen… It’s been giving me good luck since last night, I thought.
A few days passed happily like this.
Until one day…
After returning from the library class, I couldn’t find the pen anywhere! At home, I was devastated. Everything started going wrong. My marks dropped in tests. While reading, nothing made sense. I was always thinking about the pen.
Seeing my condition, my father gifted me a magical pen that looked almost identical to the old one. I used it—and the same thing happened again. I was happy once more.
But after some time, my father told me the truth.
“There was nothing special about either of those pens,” he said. “You’ve been studying everything, but you believed the pen was helping you,” he added.
“Yes, in fact, that’s true,” my mother agreed.
“But if the pen wasn’t magical, then how come everything went wrong without it?” I objected.
“Without it, you were mentally disturbed and couldn’t concentrate. You made up your mind that with the pen, everything would go right,” he explained.
Then I thought for a while and came to the conclusion that there really is no such thing as ‘magic.’
“What! Ha!” I said, almost choking with laughter.
We’ve laughed over it ever since.
Moral: If you believe in something, everything becomes possible.
